Can a free cup of soup from well-wishers really be bad for you? Some groups who work with the homeless think so. Chloe Stothart finds out what their beef is with soup runs
A long line of men, young and old, shabby and smart, wait quietly for a cup of soup. Many have been standing here for hours and some have been coming to this stall for years. But this familiar service could become a rare sight because Westminster council wants to cut back on the number of soup runs in central London, and many other big cities, including Manchester, would like to follow suit.
Westminster council says there are too many soup runs in the capital and they are hindering the homeless, rather than helping. Two years ago, the number was reduced by 70% following a programme by the Salvation Army, which has been making efforts to coordinate soup handouts. But Westminster council wants the number reduced further from the 60-odd that operate in central London.
The police and homelessness agencies that work for the council are in the early stages of talks with the churches and individuals that deliver food on the borough’s streets about scaling back their services. It has not settled on an exact number but some homelessness agencies in the borough talk about single figures.
Westminster argues that soup runs encourage rough sleepers to stay on the streets rather than moving into hostels and cutting their ties with street life. “A large number of people who use these services are not rough sleepers; they have a place to live of one sort or another. But the soup runs attract people who we have got off the streets back onto them. They come under pressure to continue activities such as drug taking and alcohol abuse, which sends them spiralling back into old ways of life,” says council leader Simon Milton. “Shutting down some soup runs is part of a wider strategy of getting people off the streets and making street life less sustainable.”
There are usually between 113 and 226 rough sleepers in the central London boroughs where the soup runs operate – that’s about three rough sleepers per soup run. “The ratio is disproportionate: you don’t need so many soup runs for that number of people,” says Milton. He argues that rough sleepers will not starve if the soup runs are cut back because they can buy subsidised meals in day centres for homeless people.
Westminster council’s stance is supported by several charities including Thames Reach Bondway – which provides outreach services for the council – the Salvation Army, the local police and even a few former soup run users.
Judy Wells* agrees with the council. She slept rough on and off for 30 years and now stays in a Thames Reach Bondway hostel but believes she would not have been on the streets for so long without soup runs. “If they weren’t there people would make more effort to get a place somewhere,” she says. “The day centres are enough. You have to pay for a meal – but if you want to eat you will pay it.”
Some charities even question the motives of the people who operate the soup runs. Frank Moran, street rescue service manager at Thames Reach Bondway, says: “The question I’d ask [the soup run volunteers] is, whose needs are they meeting? Their need to feel good and give something back or the homeless people’s needs?
Soup runs attract people we have got off the streets back onto them. They come under pressure to do drugs again
Simon Milton, Westminster council
“There are other things they could be doing for homeless people.” Instead, he suggests volunteers could visit former homeless people in their homes or take them on day trips so that they don’t need to return to the soup runs to socialise. “If volunteers did that, it would demand more of them than giving out soup,” says Moran, who ran Bondway’s soup run until it was replaced by an outreach service three years ago.
There is a danger, he says, that former rough sleepers could be pulled back into life on the streets by socialising with old friends still there – especially if they’ve kicked a drug habit but their friends haven’t. Moran says they should meet friends at day centres and coffee mornings run by charities.
Free for all
Police in Westminster also want to see fewer services offering free soup, but for different reasons. Inspector Malcolm Barnard, who works with rough sleepers as part of the safer streets unit, worries about violence. “There has been rising tension between groups from the new European Union states and those who’ve been homeless here for longer,” he says. “I feel it’s getting more dangerous, even for the people who operate the soup runs. We have had incidents where people get seriously hurt and we do not want it to get to the point where someone is murdered.”
There are also complaints from locals about litter, noise and intimidation. Ideally, says Barnard, soup runs should be reduced in number and moved indoors to a large church hall, but finding a venue has proved difficult.
While many of the groups who offer the service would be happy with a little more coordination, they are largely unwilling to stop handing out food. They do not think the number of soup runs has got out of proportion to the number of rough sleepers. They say they offer companionship to the excluded – both rough sleepers and former homeless people. Their services are needed, they argue, because hostel places are not suitable or available for every rough sleeper.
George Davis is handing out bags of sweets to men as they queue at a soup run in Charing Cross. He has worked on the runs for a church in Putney for more than
If the soup runs weren’t there, people would make more of an effort to get off the streets and find themselves a place to stay
Judy Wells, former rough sleeper
17 years and does not agree that handouts encourage people to sleep rough. “Nobody wants to live on the streets but where else can they go? Most of these guys would run away if you tried to put them in a hostel,” he says.
His boss Don Williams* concedes that the more soup runs there are, the more people turn up. Many of them live in hostels and there are even a few backpackers who tuck into the meals. But while the council would argue that these are not rough sleepers, Williams is reluctant to turn people away. He says: “Most are from broken situations and we are trying to show God’s love. I have been doing this for about 15 years and have built up a relationship with them.”
Providing a lifeline
In the queue in Charing Cross, Phillip Mills*, who now lives in a flat for rough sleepers that he has to vacate during the daytime, says the soup run plays an important social role. “Some people [who are now housed] come down to see the guys they slept rough with,” he says. He rejects the idea that ex-rough sleepers should be discouraged from seeing old friends at soup runs. “So if someone leaves Westminster council they wouldn’t want them to go back and see their colleagues?” he asks.
Outside a windswept church in central London, former soup-run user Peter Hill* says the service will always have a role. He now sleeps in a hostel bed but slept rough for a year after suffering a nervous breakdown. He stresses that the soup runs are needed for people who cannot go into the hostel system. “I couldn’t cope with the benefits system when I was ill,” he says. Consequently he had no money to pay for food in day centres.
Many immigrants who use the soup runs also cannot access benefits, and Hill says there will always be some rough sleepers who need the service: some people will be ejected from hostels for their behaviour, while others will leave because they find the other residents intimidating. On top of that, there is a shortage of hostel vacancies. “You have to be on benefits to get into a hostel and from a standing start that takes six weeks,” he says.
The cheese sandwiches handed out at the soup runs do not entice you to stay on the street, Hill argues, nor does queuing in the rain for a meal that may never arrive.
Nobody wants to sleep rough but where else can these guys go? Most of them would run away if you said you were going to put them in a hostel
George Davis, soup run worker
Some soup runs – such as those where students give out chocolate or one where a man doled out cash because his late wife had wanted him to give it to the poor – have come in for strong criticism but Hill still feels they play a vital role.
Even Hill admits there are a few that should be stopped, referring to one run by a church that is “almost a cult” and gets people to sign over power of attorney so it can receive their benefits payments. But Hill says the majority of soup runs do useful work, and adds that the range of suppliers adds nutritional variety to the otherwise poor diets of many soup-run users.
One thing people on both sides of the argument agree on is that changes will need to be made to the hostel system to cope with the fallout if soup runs are axed.
At Thames Reach Bondway, Moran says a few hostels must be reserved for people who don’t drink or take drugs and are intimidated in places where those activities happen. And people who get kicked out of hostels for antisocial behaviour will need help to recognise and deal with their problem.
A big challenge will be to find more daytime activities for hostel residents, who are turned out onto the streets during the day, and more effort must be made to encourage people to join hostel schemes.
The shortage of hostel vacancies must also be addressed. There are too few flats for residents to move on to when they are ready to leave hostels – because of this, Moran admits a few soup runs will still be needed. But he says homelessness agencies should offer just a few licensed soup runs where food hygiene and staff safety are a priority.
Asking soup-run organisers to cut back only does half the job. In order to tackle the negative side-effects opponents associate with the schemes, there must be alternatives for the people for whom soup runs are a lifeline. Simply slashing services will not solve the problems – it will only push them elsewhere.
They warm people’s hearts...
It is fashionable to take a hard-nosed approach
to homelessness today: people who are homeless should be expected to take whatever is offered them so that they no longer live on the streets.
On no account, so the thinking goes, should people be supported by soup runs in case they are encouraged to continue to be homeless. It is even suggested – preposterously – that some people might be persuaded by a cup of soup to return to the streets. That may happen in some cases, but not because of the lure of soup. People end up sleeping rough again when they are given a roof over their head – but no help to find a social life.
The Simon Community has been providing tea and soup runs to homeless people in central London for 40 years. Today there are certainly many more other services available for them than when we started. But our daily experience confirms there are still numbers of people – a precise figure is impossible – who remain beyond the reach of those services.
On an average evening, our soup run distributes food to between 100 and 130 people. Among them are those who have lost all hope of making a life within the kind of network of human relationships that gives life its meaning for most of us. They have often been excluded from hostels or have excluded themselves after experiencing theft, violence and drug-taking in them. They may be people whose lack of confidence and fearfulness of others (often stemming from previous abusive relationships) makes it difficult for them to access day centres and drop-in services.
They have nowhere to go and, apart from the little we and others can provide, own nothing. It seems strange that the provision of a cup of soup to them should be in any way controversial.
If people are to reconnect, to be able to form the social and personal relationships that sustain us all, it is through ordinary human contact that this will happen. There are many ways of extending the hand of friendship, one classic way having always been through the sharing of food. For homeless people, the offer by our volunteers of soup and sandwiches is a vital a way of making contact and providing a sense of belonging to the human community.
Mike Tristram, director Simon Community
... And keep them on the streets
Any service that purports to help homeless people must ruthlessly assess whether it positively contributes towards ending homelessness. Street handouts profoundly fail this test.
At least 60 different street handouts come into central London from as far afield as Harlow, Woking and Wimbledon. They give out tea, soup, food, clothes and handmade chocolate. Over a period when the number of people sleeping rough has declined, street handouts have increased.
One evening recently on the Strand I asked some people queuing for a handout why they used them. The first person I asked was living in Whitechapel. He had come over to see some mates. Another, who had come up from Deptford, was bored and the handouts provided something to do. The person behind him was not worth asking as he was clearly an office worker, a bit the worse for drink, who fancied a snack on his way home.
But even if the handouts are not really meeting a need for most people, surely they are not doing harm, you may think. I wish this were true. Handouts inadvertently encourage people to stay on the street. Take William*, helped off the street into a hostel by Thames Reach Bondway. He told me with some sorrow that he intended to stay on the street for just a few weeks but the handouts – three a night – turned up “at my feet” and he eventually stayed out for two years. William’s debilitating emphysema illustrates the impact of sleeping on a hard pavement for two years.
Handout services are also depressingly uncoordinated. They fail to link people with the range of other services that can help them – hostels, mental health teams, outreach workers.
What a waste. Committed volunteers are like gold dust and make an enormous difference working in day centres, hostels and befriending schemes. Street handout services condemn homeless people to receive the basics and then, amazingly, judge their success by the size of the queue waiting for a sandwich and tea. In 2004, homeless people deserve so much more than tea and sympathy.
Jeremy Swain, chief executive Thames Reach Bondway
Source
Housing Today
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